


Nagito's Very Bad Day

by Bookninja2021



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abusive Parents, Blood and Gore, Despair, Despair Komaeda Nagito, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, The Warriors of Hope are their own trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookninja2021/pseuds/Bookninja2021
Summary: Sometimes, you just have a bad day. This is Nagito's; a bad day that's going to last a very long time.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko & Towa Monaca, Komaeda Nagito & Towa Monaca, Shingetsu Nagisa/Towa Monaca
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Nagito's Very Bad Day

I have to say, I am very disappointed by the cuisine at this “Pig Boy.” Teruteru could make better Pork Ramen than this while gagged and blindfolded. I know because he tried. He lit the kitchen on fire and mixed the rat poison up with the salt. I still tried it, of course, because my life has no meaning and I would welcome the chance to be poisoned to further my own despair, but my luck struck again. 

And that’s why I’m here. I am currently on a bad luck cycle, if this ramen is any indication. The pork is chewy and bland, the noodles overcooked. There is barely any seasoning either, but there is somehow a large puddle of water gathered at the bottom of the bowl. 

But there is good news! I’m now due for a good luck cycle, away from this hopeless ramen! I have no idea what it will be, but that’s the fun of it all, isn’t it? 

Why am I here, you may ask? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask my luck cycle. It was bad luck that let Junko die, my fault. But it was my good luck that gave rise to Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Hope! He now is part of the Future Foundation, leading to the glorious restoration of a Post-Tragedy world! But of course, their change cannot be made without resistance. We are many, the ones who were brave enough to spare their own lives when Junko fell and spread despair in her name! And from the havoc we wreak, an even greater hope shall arise!

I’m not on any mission, though. We are far too disorganized for such things, the Class of 77-B. Our overwhelming camaraderie may have kept us alive, but it was evidently not enough to instill in us any sort of organization. I’m just here in Towa City in my wandering. Maybe my good luck cycle will lead me to the new Ultimate Hope, or the new Ultimate Despair. Who knows? 

I am still chuckling to myself when the waitress walks up to me. She’s a pretty little thing, with brownish-black hair that nearly reaches her waist. She has the dignity to wear a more reserved outfit than the usual low-class slum restaurant. Not that it makes the food any better. 

“Um, hello?” Her inquisitive voice snaps me out of the trance I’ve put myself in. “How’s the food? I see you’ve made a pretty good dent in it.” _Ah, yes. Talentless._ I must confess, I have had little interaction with any in the last two years. They’ve never been worth my time, doubly so when they had so little time left on this earth to begin with. 

Thus, I feel little need for politeness. I roughly shove my bowl away. “It was adequate.” I lace my voice with as much disdain as possible, mostly unconsciously. I fish a crumpled thousand yen note out of my pocket. Truthfully, it’s not mine. In my last good luck cycle, I fished it out of a sewer grate. It’s also a little wet because of this, not that I care. And of course, when I get money for food, the food has to be supremely average. 

I get out of my seat and push my way out of the restaurant, leaving the note on the table, without making a scene. I don’t need to bother with these commoners. 

I take a relaxing stroll through Towa City, marvelling at how little it had been impacted by the Tragedy. Tokuichi Towa truly is a genius. Perhaps he even could be called an Ultimate, provided he had chosen to go to Hope’s Peak Academy. Instead, his father disdained the institution, sending him to some ordinary elite private academy on the island. A shame. He could have been so great. In a sense, he still is. 

That is an interesting idea; a Talentless doing so well, much better than many Ultimates. That, I suppose, goes to show that this world is not fair sometimes. Sometimes, those with talent are shafted in favour of those without. 

A panicked scream sounds from the edge of my senses, followed by a brutal squelching sound. _Huh. Interesting._ Then, a few more squishy stabbing sounds. _Is someone getting stabbed to death near me? Oh, the despair…_

I peeked around the corner, into the nearest alley, to find that my prediction had been true, in a manner of speaking. A man in a fancy suit lies against the wall, dead. He is being repeatedly stabbed by a Monokuma. _A Monokuma? Now that’s something you don’t see every day._ The murderous robot hasn’t noticed me yet, and I’m glad for that. In fact, it will never notice me, because it turns it back to me and menacingly stomps away. 

I look down to see that the man’s briefcase has fallen open. _Interesting. I wonder what this will contain._ There were so many options. It was probably something boring, like taxes or business proposals, but it could be something interesting. I’m on my good luck cycle, after all, so I pray to Mistress Junko that my luck saves me and snatch the papers from the case before they get covered in their owner’s blood. 

The good news is that I save the dead man’s papers from the tide of his own blood, steadily pouring form a massive gash in his throat. The better news is that they are very interesting indeed. 

My attention is first caught when the words “Future Foundation” appear on the paper. _Oh? A Future Foundation agent has been killed? By a Monokuma, no less? Now I am excited._

My excitement only increases when I delve further into the documents. Not only are they a Future Foundation member, they are here on a rescue mission. They are to rescue the hostages from the Second Killing Game! This one has been assigned… Komaru Naegi! Ha ha, my luck strikes again! I cannot believe how amazing this is! How could such a thing happen to little old unimpressive me?! 

_I must find her immediately._ After all, she is the sister of the Ultimate Hope. Who better to be the next Ultimate Hope? Even if she turns out to be an ordinary, average girl in every sense of the word, her bloodline precedes her. Enough despair, and I know she can shine through it to become the Ultimate Hope! My luck is the one thing that has never betrayed me. I must follow it when it beckons! 

And so I do. I shuffle the paper with her home address to the front, fiercely keeping it in my grip. Nothing will stop me from pursuing my hope! 

I suppose it doesn’t matter if some Talentless, ordinary person on the streets takes notice of me. As if I have to heed their words. Besides, a guy like me… I can just blend in. It’s not like I have a real talent anyway. I should be fine; nobody will notice me obsessively staring at my paper and bumping into things every ten seconds. 

I am wrong in that assumption, evidently; one very peeved looking blue-haired man shoves me aside when I bump into him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, idiot?!” 

I analyze him: a talentless. I have no reason to feign niceness when speaking to him. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. You can move on now.” I wave my hand dismissively and continue my journey, looking up from the paper every so often. 

The man shouts back at me, but I ignore him. What could he do to me anyway? Well, he could probably beat me up. He could beat me until I was bruised very badly. But I don’t care. I will never be broken in spirit, as long as it is the fists of a talentless making contact on my skin. 

I am steadily approaching the place. The address is far too long to memorize, and I do not care. I only care that I am here. 

The doors are unlocked. I briskly shove my way in and check my paper once again. The room is on Floor Seven, Room Twenty-Six. _So that is the number I need to find. Twenty-Six._ A shame it couldn’t be Sixteen. That would be so sweetly ironic. 

The elevator music belongs to Sayaka; I recognize the tune. _Hm. So she really is the Ultimate Pop Idol._ Not that there is any doubt. _It is always funny,_ I muse to myself, _when people gain more fame dead than they had alive. Not like she needed help in that department._

I was never a fan of her music myself, but I can appreciate a good tune when it comes in front of me. My ears have been assaulted for the past two years by Ibuki’s tunes, and despite her Talented status, I have no idea how she earned the title she did. Every time she performs a song, my ears have shrivelled up, and after a minute, they want to be euthanized. 

I arrive on the seventh floor to find it completely empty. I would find that slightly creepy, but I am sure that it’s fairly normal for apartment floors to be abandoned. I do, however, have to remind myself that Komaru is being held here as a hostage. It makes sense that nobody is in the apartment. 

I take a deep breath to steady myself. _This is my first chance. You can do this, Komaeda. You can do this._ Then, I knock on the door. It has the number Twenty-Six in kanji engraved on the door. _This is a high-quality door. Somebody has a lot of money._

A sudden banging sound emits from behind the door. I hear a cry, “Help! Please help me! I’m trapped in here, and I’ve been kidnapped, and…” She trails off. The voice sounds very feminine, at least, so I presume it’s a girl. She sounds young, about high school age. So I presume I got the right door, which would mean it’s Komaru behind that door. 

On the other hand, her crying and sobbing does sound truly pathetic. Like that of a Talentless. It’s enough to make me wonder whether she’s even an Ultimate. Should I leave her here? Is she truly another Ultimate Hope, or just another regular person? 

Unfortunately, my one chance of finding her falls through my fingers, as I hear a waddling sound behind me. _Ah, the ever-fleeting nature of hope. I am on my bad luck cycle, it seems. For shame._

Sure enough, I turn around to see a Monokuma approaching. I have no weapons, and thus cannot fight, so my only option is to run. Run through the apartment, and hope that the hall doesn’t end in a dead-end. _Shit, shit, shit. Please let Komaru survive. It would be so anticlimactic to have her be killed this early._

It is good that the apartment loops around to the elevator. It means I can easily escape the Monokuma pursuing me. More Monokumas pop out of the ceiling behind me, presumably to chase me down. _This must have been a trap. Maybe she is important after all._ It’s too late to go back, though. I have to hope. I have to hope she can make it on her own. I have to hope my bad luck cycle is at an end, and my good luck can shine through… 

I wipe my brow, covered in sweat, and lean back in the elevator. I have escaped safely, in my cowardice. I am a coward, aren’t I? A failure. More concerned with the welfare of my useless self than the potential new Ultimate Hope. Sayaka’s music does little to help me, not that I deserve it, of course. 

The elevator opens on the ground floor with a ding; I peek out to see a stern-looking, blond-haired man with glasses. He has a bunch of agents behind him that look like the man I found dead in the alley earlier. _Oh. You must be a Future Foundation agent._ It is an educated guess. 

I calmly greet them, “Hello.” Then, I make to walk out of the building. They don’t seem to recognize me for a few seconds, until they have already stepped in the elevator. _It must be crowded in there._

“Wait! It’s Komaeda! Quick, somebody get him!” But it’s too late for them. I walk up and press the button to forcibly close the elevator doors. _Goodbye._ I hear much in the way of thumping and banging as the elevator climbs to whatever floor it’s headed for. I smile at the blank metal face of the closed elevator doors as I slowly walk backwards. I figure I have time before they manage to get the elevator back down to apprehend me. 

I am wrong about that. 

It seems that the Future Foundation agents have managed to get the elevator to move back down, after about a minute. I am still in the building, indulging in my ability to gloat, when I hear a ding. _Of course. I am punished for my confidence._ It seems typical for me. 

I suppose it’s time to prove I can do one thing, at least. I can run. I sprint out of the building, a pair of agents behind me while the rest go back up on the elevator. Presumably, they’re going to rescue Komaru. _That is not a deterrent._ In fact, it is what I was hoping for, by forcing them into the elevator. _They should be able to deal with the Monokumas._ They can do what I cannot, and help foster the new Ultimate Hope. 

It turns out that I cannot sprint particularly quickly, at least not compared to Future Foundation agents. It does make sense, considering how out of shape I was for the last year. I was never the type to go out on those missions to spread despair; my contributions were rightly valued far too little. When one goes out to spread despair, they don’t need some insane man rambling in the back, now do they? 

In a way, I kind of relished Junko’s death, because it freed me from my chains and let me free, free to cultivate hope through despair as I’d always wanted. I would never admit this to my fellow Ultimate Despairs, of course. They would kill me if I did so; I have known that from the beginning. 

My euphoric sense of despair only grows larger once I bear witness to what is happening on the streets. It seems that the Tragedy had left this city untouched no longer. 

Monokumas rampage through the streets, killing indiscriminately. All those ordinary civilians I spoke with earlier are probably dead or dying; I don’t know. I also don’t care. What I do care about is that the Future Foundation agents chasing me have been… hindered by the sudden Monokuma outbreak. 

“What the…!” It doesn’t take long for them to be attacked, during which I can easily slip away, unnoticed. I presume they’ll die shortly, but I also don’t care about that. _All in the service of despair._ And of that despair, someday, with someone, would rise a greater hope. 

I have no rush to do anything. Thus, I decide to take a short stroll through the now burning city and observe the despair, let it fill me to the brim. 

It is truly a brutal sight, watching Towa City fall to pieces. Or maybe ‘falling’ isn’t the right word. It is being torn to pieces at the tips of Monokuma claws. I feel a wave of titillation ripple through me. _This! This is what true despair feels like!_

Cars are tipped over and on fire, corpses with slashed throats decorate the streets, and I detect an extremely strong odour of blood. I’m used to the smell, of course. How could I not be, being a member of Ultimate Despair? Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say a former member? After all, since Junko died, the organization known as Ultimate Despair no longer exists, at least in a recognizable form. 

Blood splashes onto my shoes as I walk through the puddles, uncaring. It’s a minor miracle that none of the Monokumas have noticed me yet; a good luck cycle if nothing else. I can’t imagine the power within the city will be on for much longer; indeed, I can even see an epidemic of lights in windows shutting off, leaving only desolate remains.

My walk lasts for a long time, arguably too long, to the point where I start to become bored. All this despair starts to get boring, after a while. That’s something that Junko could understand perfectly, and that my colleagues never can, except for Izuru. But of course, he’s bored by everything, including my worthless face. Still more entertaining to be around than plain old Hajime, though. 

Thankfully, my day becomes a bit more entertaining when a Monokuma finally takes notice of me. _I see my luck has finally run out. Oh well._ When I hear the cybertronic voice saying, “Time for punishment!” I know it’s time to run. 

And run I do. Thankfully, Monokuma units aren’t very fast. We knew this long before the Second Killing Game, but that helped establish it in the popular consciousness. Nobody is controlling these, so they are not particularly strong. The only things deadly about these is their claws, their numbers, and the fact that their victims lack weapons. Quite a few people can probably survive, if they have guns or other weapons. Perhaps like that angry blue-haired man I bumped into earlier. Or those Future Foundation agents I locked into the elevator. 

I dash around the nearest corner, only to spot another Monokuma, now locked on to me. I have to say, these Monokumas do have some teamwork. _Maybe somebody is controlling them._ Who, I wonder, would have enough people to control all these? The thought is fascinating. Perhaps some new despair-causers on the scene, to squeeze the ripened new fruits of hope until their juice came flowing out in droves. 

I am starting to get tired at this point, and Monokumas are increasingly cutting off my paths of escape. _Is this how it ends? How gloriously despairful. Torn to bits my Monokumas, while trying to foster a new hope. And so, my bad luck cycle finally comes back to haunt me._

I am forced to stop and breathe. I fall to my knees while Monokumas close in around me. I feel like I’m breathing through solid rock, however impossible that is, and my legs are on fire; they can’t run one more step. Sweat drips from my locks of white hair and onto the ground, where they mix with the puddles of blood. _Heh, quite literal; I’m kneeling in blood, tears and sweat. Funny, that._ Said blood soaks into the knees of my worn jeans as I kneel, unable to stand, unable to do anything except soak in my own despair. 

I brace myself for the impact of claws on my neck, but it does not come. The Monokumas have stopped their advance, standing completely erect. _What is going on? My good luck again! I knew it! _I did not know it.__

__I hear a low whizzing sound as some mechanical… thing approaches. When I look up, I see a wheelchair, one piloted by a very young green-haired girl. Said light green hair bunches up on her head and is quite shortly cut, not even touching the peaks of her shoulders._ _

__The wheelchair girl greets me first. “Nice to meet you, Nagito. I’m Monaca, Lil’ Miss Ultimate Homeroom.” _Another Ultimate, spreading ultimate despair? Perfect._ Monaca speaks in an understandably childlike tone, one surprisingly innocent given her position. _ _

__I stand up and bow deeply to her. She is an Ultimate after all, even if a little one, so she deserves the recognition. “Greeting, Monaca. I am deeply grateful to you for sparing my pathetic life.” I don’t ask how she knows my name, because I figure that if it is important, she’ll tell me._ _

__Monaca’s wide childish eyes take on a much darker look. “Remember that, Nagito. Big Sis Junko will be so glad to see you back.” She smiles widely, an action that only serves to make me more intrigued. _Is this girl delusional? Junko is dead._ I don’t correct her, though. _ _

__Monaca puts a finger to the corner of her mouth and gently tugs, turning her smile lopsided. “Do you know what Monaca and friends do with Demons?”_ _

__“You kill them?” I don’t know what she means by ‘Demons,’ but I guess my answer to be a fairly safe bet._ _

__“That’s right! We, the Warriors of Hope, kill demons!” Monaca finishes her answer with a soft but menacing giggle. Then, she leans forward in her chair, her face briefly turning demonic. “Or at least, that’s what they believe. Say exactly what Monaca tells you to say and Monaca might not kill you.” _Ah, the third person. Ever so childish._ _ _

__I decide that staying submissive would be a good idea for my safety, so it comes naturally to me to obey her. “I can do that. May I ask why you’re sparing me?”_ _

__“Monaca has plans for Nagito. She has big plans for him.” She says no more, instead ordering the Monokumas to pick me up and carry me off, which they promptly do._ _

__The Monokumas act like a train, chugging me, their cargo, along to some sort of secret hideout. I’m surprised I’m blindfolded, but I’m not complaining. It means I get to see more of the carnage presumably caused by Monaca._ _

__Despair is flowing through me once again. Monaca has decided to spare my worthless life, and she is now instructing me on what to say if I want to keep my life, presumably from her ‘friends.’_ _

__It is shocking, just how much damage has been inflicted on Towa City. From the looks of things, the place has been almost completely ruined. Will it ever be restored? Obviously not, if the perpetrators of this Tragedy are still in charge. But I have no faith that will be the case. The Future Foundation will come in, and hope will prevail, strengthened by the sheer despair that has been wrought upon this city._ _

__We arrive at Monaca’s hideout, and the Monokumas drop me off in what looks to be a very grand room. The white tile is very clean, and a pair of balconies flank the walls, decorated with gold-lined banisters. It is somewhat remarkable that things like this have survived amidst the chaos._ _

__Monaca smacks the back of my head as she rolls by, forcing me to my knees. I suppose the kneeling helps, too. Then, she spins her chair around so that she is facing me, innocent smile on her face._ _

__I see the tips of four people’s feet walk up and stand beside Monaca. A masculine voice shouts, “I see you’ve captured a Demon, Princess!” _Princess?_ _ _

___Oh, he means Monaca._ I know this when Monaca responds, “Yes, Monaca did it. She likes this one; could she keep him as a pet?” _I’m not sure I like that arrangement._ I’ve never liked women, much less twelve-year-old girls. That would be Teruteru’s field. _ _

__Another masculine voice, much deeper than the first one, replies, “Monaca, are you sure about this? We should just kill him and be done with it.”_ _

__A female voice chimes in, “Monaca deserves a pet. Come on, Nagisa!”_ _

__Nagisa starts stuttering, “W-we-well, I guess that’s alright.”_ _

__“Come on, Nagisa. We can adopt him!” Monaca jokingly chides Nagisa, topping it off with a childish giggle. I can imagine this causes a blush in him._ _

__I am taken off-guard by a sudden kick, and I am knocked onto my back. A red-headed boy, one with very nice white and red sneakers, is kicking me in the ribs. I don’t think I want to retaliate, so I don’t. I just let my worthless body take the abuse. The boy shouts, “Stupid, nasty, filthy Demon! You don’t deserve to live!” _Well, this was sudden._ _ _

__Now that I’m apparently allowed to look at my captors, I see one boy, one girl, and two children I can’t tell the genders of, as well as Monaca. There’s obviously the one kicking me, then there’s a pink-haired girl standing at the end, looking at me with scorn, and a blue-haired person with their hair gelled into two horns, looking quite flustered. Presumably, that would be Nagisa, and that also makes him a boy._ _

__The last one is quite odd. They’re wearing a mask that covers their entire face, leaving me impossible to tell what gender they are. Said mask looks rather hastily patched together out of old rags, much like what they’re wearing. Their sleeves go far past their wrists, flopping about in the air. If I had to guess, I would say that coat is designed for an adult. They pull out a marker and ask either Monaca or my abuser, “Can I use this? I think he’ll look a lot better once I give him a makeover.”_ _

__I joke, “I think I need one, too. I mean, my face is all bloody and everything.” I can feel the fresh blood streaming down my face from repeated blows, and I guess I’m suffering from some internal bleeding, too. Of course, I still have that obstinate smile on my face, because I seemingly can’t stop smiling at this glorious display of Ultimate talent._ _

__I receive another kick to the chest for this as the angry boy above me shouts, “Hey! No talking unless Monaca tells you to talk!”_ _

__Monaca, meanwhile, is reclining in her chair, smiling and laughing with Nagisa and the other girl. She says, her smile turning into an exaggerated pout, “Masaru will kill Monaca’s pet if Masaru’s not careful. That would make Monaca sad.”_ _

__The girl next to Monaca vocally scolds Masaru, “How dare you make Monaca sad, Masaru! You will stop this instant!”_ _

__Masaru, apparently satisfied with the amount of teeth he has knocked out, steps back and fades back to his comrades. “Fine, fine. Do what you want with him, I guess.”_ _

__“Yay! Monaca gets a new pet! What does her pet think of this?” I presume this is that invitation to talk Masaru mentioned earlier._ _

__“I would be glad to become a servant to this new despair!” I let my eyes glaze over, take on the crazed look Junko was always famous for, as I respond with glee. “So much despair… you five are clearly talented.” I decide to leave out that I am betting on their failure. “You continue Junko’s legacy well.”_ _

__The pink-haired girl gasps. “You say that we’re continuing Big Sis Junko’s legacy…” She squeals loudly, before bringing herself back to earth with a slap. “No! This is a demon! Don’t take compliments from it!” _Well, that’s a bit rude. I am a human, you know._ _ _

__The masked child walks forward, bearing a marker. I stay still as they doodle on my face, muttering, “I’ll make you a big scary monster, because you’re a demon. Ooh, I know! You can be an Oni!”_ _

__A few minutes later, they hold up a mirror and proclaim, “Oh hey! I did a good job!” I think they’re a boy, because their voice sounds fairly masculine. “Do you think I did a good job?”_ _

__“Ah! It’s a big scary Demon! Please, have mercy!” The pink-haired girl looks quite scared of me. _Odd. She is probably mocking me.__ _

__“Yay! Heh heh, now you know what it’s like to be scary! Just like me!” The masked boy stands back and admires his work._ _

__Monaca orders, “Monokumas, a collar for our servant, please.” Then, she spins around in her chair in excitement. “Yay! The family gets a new pet!”_ _

__The Warriors of Hope file out, leaving just me and Monaca in the room. I ask Monaca, “So, what is your plan? I would be glad to help.”_ _

__“Well, Big Sis Junko is dead now. So Monaca wants to make a new Big Sis Junko.” Her face darkens again. “Monaca wants to make a new Ultimate Despair. And Nagito is going to help.” _Interesting. I suppose I can do that._ Naturally, when an Ultimate Despair rises up, an Ultimate Hope will follow, ushering the world into a new age of Hope once again. _ _

__As she continues to explain, I revel in the sense of irony. _To think, we have the exact same goal. She wants to make Ultimate Despair, I want to make the Ultimate Hope. Only one of us can win. I wonder who it will be? Does this count as good luck or bad luck?__ _

**Author's Note:**

> I figured out how to do italics, let's go.


End file.
